


Eavesdropping

by anexcessoffeels (headbuttingbears)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:37:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headbuttingbears/pseuds/anexcessoffeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You owe me a coffee," Barba grumbled. "And dry-cleaning." | Sonny's preoccupation becomes Barba's problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Eavesdropping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [blithesea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blithesea/gifts).



> For blithesea, on the special occasion of her birthday. Many happy returns, babe.

2016 was looking a lot like 2015, Sonny thought. Sitting in Barba's office doing trial prep? Check. Both of them working hard with no end in sight, Sonny pulling overtime thanks to a short-handed squad and Barba… being Barba? Check. Thinking about bending him over the table and reintroducing a little fun into both their lives? Check.

The more things changed…

But Barba hadn't looked so tired this time last year, Sonny was sure of it. He would've remembered, considering how much covert – overt, who was he kidding – attention he paid the guy. Barba, he was convinced, would never before have been caught dead rocking a five o'clock shadow at work. Added together with the usual rolled-up sleeves, the necktie pulled far looser than usual… it all painted an uncharacteristically grim picture. The guy needed a break.

Another tug and that tie would come off all together, Sonny thought, eyeing Barba as he scrawled a note on a yellow legal pad. The silk would slither free, and then he could move on to unbuttoning Barba's shirt the rest of the way so he could kiss his neck, scrape his teeth over the stubbly corner of his jaw. When was the last time Barba had gotten a hickey? They always made Sonny think of high school, fooling around between classes, his sisters teasing him and his mother's disapproval. Had Mama Barba ever worn the same frown or-

Barba heaved a sigh and rubbed his temple, eyes fixed on his notes but his pen had stopped halfway through a sentence. Stared and rubbed and _tap tap tap_.

So Sonny wasn't the only one who'd lost their train of thought. Nice. He glanced at the open file before him, then said, "The cellphone video showed-"

"Yes, right." Barba dropped his hand from his temple back to the legal pad, pen now moving rapidly as he muttered, "Thanks."

"No problem," Sonny said, chin in his palm as he stared at Barba. Overtime happened to the best of them – all Sonny could do was cross all his Ts and hope Barba made it to the weekend, when he could get some much needed R&R. Of course if it were up to Sonny he wouldn't get out of bed for forty-eight hours, and only some of that time would be spent sleeping.

Sonny hadn't done the marathon sex thing since college, but he was pretty sure he could still manage it with proper motivation. And Barba motivated him plenty, at work as well as in his late-night – mid-day – imaginings. _C'mon, Sonny, I know you can do better than that, harder-_

Barba inhaled sharply as his face flushed before Sonny's very eyes, pen stilling once more.

"You okay?" Sonny sat up from his slouch as Barba turned a twitch into a reach for his venti-sized coffee.

"Fine." Stone cold, judging by the way his mouth twisted as he swallowed, fingers sliding down the cardboard as he set the cup back down on the table. The sight of Barba lightly drumming his fingers against the cup as he questioned Sonny on some minutia of evidence shouldn't have been nearly as distracting as it was.

Even as he answered him on autopilot, Sonny found himself thinking about those long fingers moving so casually over other things. Places. Bits of human anatomy. _His_ anatomy, and he licked his lip as Barba stroked a finger down the side of the cup before he flipped the page on his legal pad. It almost seemed to happen in slow-motion: the paper curling over as Barba's fingers slid up the other side; pen spinning over his knuckles in a showy motion before he reached again for his coffee.

Sonny couldn't help it – too much work and not enough play since the semester had ended. Now here he was, picturing Barba's clever fingers sliding against something else. Like his dick. The image popped into his head in brilliant Technicolor: Barba's fingertips trailing along the length of his stiff cock before he gripped it, squeezed, just a shade too tight to show him who's boss, and Jesus-

" _Christ_ ," Barba groaned, fumbling his cup, and Sonny was going to catch hell. "Son of a bitch," he muttered after a dumbstruck moment, looking down in shock at his coffee-soaked lap, the cup undoubtedly rolling over the floor.

Sonny clapped a hand over his mouth in time to stop- He wasn't sure what the sound was going to be. Not a gasp – probably a laugh. Something loud, a single _HA_ , automatic but he'd stopped it in time. Or at least he thought he had; the look Barba was giving him made him think twice about whether he'd made any sound at all.

Eyes hooded, face flushed, Barba held up his dripping notepad and stared at him, breathing hard. Not entirely a glare – Sonny had been on the receiving of plenty of those over the last couple of years to know this was something else.

Struggling to contain the grin that threatened to explode over his face, Sonny twisted in his chair to grab at some of the napkins piled next to the coffeemaker, glad again for his height. He held them out across the table to Barba, who snatched them.

"You owe me a coffee," Barba grumbled. "And dry-cleaning."

 _Wouldn't be the first time_. All sunshine when Barba shot him a cranky look at the thought. Ignoring the napkins this time in favor of the roll of paper towels, he rounded the table to where Barba sat dabbing at his hip and thigh. "More like a half-cup of coffee," Sonny said, crouching to swab up the rest of the coffee on the floor. "And you're dreamin' if you think I'm paying for your dry-cleaning. You brought this on yourself."

"On my- How is this _my_ fault?" Barba tossed the sodden napkins on the table and snapped his fingers at Sonny for paper towels. "You've been-"

"Yeah, exactly," Sonny said as he tore a sheet off for him. As if he hadn't been thinking the shit he'd been thinking partly just to fuck with Barba. "Whatever happened to privacy? Ethics?" He knew he was being a brat but screw it, they'd both been working way too hard lately. Time for some fun.

" _Ethics?_ Did you seriously just accuse me of unethical behavior?" Barba asked, laughing incredulously as he patted more forcefully at his coffee-sodden pocket. It was a good thing there hadn't been much left in the cup; had only gotten Barba's trousers, edge of his notepad, not anything _really_ important – though Barba might argue otherwise. Those pants looked expensive. And tight.

Sniggering, satisfied he'd mopped up what liquid had made it to the floor and left it dry enough to kneel on, Sonny shoved the dirty paper towels in the now-empty cup and rose from his crouch to toss it all into the waste can. Three points.

"So what, you want _me_ to apologize?" Sonny dragged Barba's wheeled chair out from the desk with him still in it, smirking at his surprised squawk. "'Cause it's not going to happen. You shouldn't be so nosy."

" _You_ shouldn't think so loudly," Barba replied, but he wasn't glaring anymore so that was good. He wasn't really angry about the coffee, Sonny could tell. Just a smidge cranky. Easily fixed. "Try ignoring someone shouting into a bullhorn next to your ear and tell me it's easy," he said, leaning back to look up at Sonny, elbows resting on the arms of the chair.

"Yep, that's me, the guy with the bullhorn," Sonny said, taking the paper towels from Barba's loose grip and setting them on the table next to the napkins. As he suspected, Barba's pants were barely damp when he touched them. "Always tryin' to get your attention."

"Well, you've got it now." Barba let his knees fall open so Sonny could stand between them as he unbuckled Barba's belt. Leaving _you better make the most of it_ unspoken, he said instead, "And here I thought we'd actually get some work done."

"We did," Sonny said, dropping to his knees. "Already got through the witness statements, my report-"

"Still have the rest of the surveillance footage to cover." But Barba wasn't stopping him from unbuttoning his pants, and he didn't sound married to the idea of more work either.

Sonny looked up at him, took in the dark circles around his eyes, the way his stubble glinted grey in the overhead light. He had to be tired if he couldn't block out Sonny's thoughts. He hadn't been _that_ loud. Maybe a bit insistent. Tad obsessive. Incredibly horny. It had been a rough week for both of them, he couldn't help it if-

"I'm fine," Barba said. "Really." There had been a smile on his face, faint; gone as soon as he sensed Sonny's concern. He covered Sonny's hand with his, let it rest there a moment before he started to guide it into his pants the way he knew Sonny had often imagined.

Sonny didn't have to be a mind-reader to know what to do next.

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Spoil my characteristic ~twist~ with a tag so blunt as "telepathy"? HA.


End file.
